High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,38

still, and his gaze clashed with Hana's, wide with shock.

“Two colleagues?” the driver asked.

“The two you dropped off a little way down the valley. The ones who've been trailing behind you.”

The driver made a sharp sound, and Iver saw a ripple of movement.

“You saw two people climb out my lander?”

“Yes.” The words were choked out, as if the driver had grabbed the woman by her throat.

There was a scuffle and heavy breathing.

“Easy. You didn't know about the two people?” One of the men said slowly. “They were stowaways?”

“Apparently.” The answer was gritted out between teeth. “What do they look like?”

“Why don't we just go get them? Last I saw, they were just over the rise.”

“They're definitely watching us,” the other man agreed. He gave a whistle and Iver heard the sound of rocks dislodging down the side of the valley. He turned his head to see two women and a man running down the slope toward him and Hana.

Smugglers, Iver realized as he rose up. These were smugglers, hiding in the Spikes. Their clothing was tattered and dusty, their hair wild, but one was holding a SAL, and it looked just as efficient as anyone else's.

Hana had her feet under her, crouching as she also took stock of who was coming at them.

“The ones who're with the driver can't see us, that bird call earlier was the signal. Either they don't have comms, or comms don't work out here.” She shrugged on her pack.

He gauged how long they had before the three smugglers reached them. “We need to move.”

Hana straightened up. “There.” She made a small movement with her hand, pointing to the other side of the valley, where the rocks were bigger and there were more hiding places.

Iver agreed. “Go.”

He ran with her, pack banging against his back. They made themselves difficult targets, weaving around bushes and rocks, jumping the narrow stream that ran along the valley floor.

The three chasing them shouted something Iver couldn't hear. It didn't matter--they'd made it to the stone sentinels on the other side, tall boulders standing in a drunken line down the length of the valley.

Hana turned as soon as they reached the first one, looking back with a quick glance.

She swore.

“They're fast. They're making good time.”

“And I heard the lander start up. They're going to turn it around and try to run us down.” Iver could hear the three people who'd stopped the driver shouting questions about his and Hana's location to their friends.

“Then we go up, where the lander can't reach us.” Hana took off at an angle, cutting left and up the side of the mountain.

Iver followed, head pounding with exhaustion, boots slipping on the loose scree that covered the valley slope.

He hadn't slept in at least two days, and while he'd rested in the lander, he'd been too afraid to sleep while Hana was unconscious. He'd dozed a few times, but hadn't let himself truly rest.

He didn't think he could manage this pace for much longer.

Up ahead, Hana gave a sudden cry of pain, and he found he hadn't reached the end of his resources after all.

He sped toward the rock that was blocking her from view, and then had to grab her as he rounded the corner so he didn't bowl her over.

“You're hurt?” He ran his hands down her shoulders and arms.

“Trapped.” She pointed to her foot.

It was caught in a nasty serrated metal device that had closed over her boot.

Rage, blinding white and just as hot, seared him. This was . . . unacceptable.

He crouched down, saw it had punctured the fabric of her boot and blood was welling beneath it.

“Go.” She half-crouched herself, balancing awkwardly with her trapped foot.

“What?” He stared at her, incredulous.

“I'm not going anywhere. You don't have time to free me now, but if you hide, you'll have the chance to rescue me later.”

“No.”

The shouts of the smugglers were getting louder, and then they were drown out by the lander's engine.

“Please, Iver. Hide. Come for me on your own terms. If we're both prisoners, or dead, what good will that do?” Her face was ashy with pain, her lips almost bloodless.

“I don't want to leave you.” He slid his palm over her cheek.

“I don't want that, either.” She leaned into his hand. “But I don't want us both caught even more.”

Iver could hear the clink and crack of boots on scree now. He rose up, torn by the most difficult decision he'd ever had to make.

“Now,” she whispered. “Now, before it's too